


I'm Fine

by sinunamor



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Casual read, Domestic Fluff, Family Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 03:35:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13895391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinunamor/pseuds/sinunamor
Summary: No, he was not fine, but João wasn't going to let his stubborn ass wallow in in his illness alone. Sick/human au/spaport fic in which João demonstrates his bedside care skills on an unsuspecting Tony.





	I'm Fine

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I've been working (procrastinating) on this for a while now and I do have this broader story set up for this au but in the meantime please enjoy this standalone story! Special thanks to bulletincookie, a fellow ao3 Hetalia writer, who supported me throughout.
> 
> Some mature themes, Antonio ahogandose en un vaso de agua because let's face it, we've all experienced drowning in a cup of water at one point, little reminders that there are people who love us no matter what.
> 
> As always, honest reviews, constructive critiques are always welcome and kudos are a plus! Thanks for reading!

Antonio cleared his throat. The sound did little to clear the slight tension in the room.

“Well?” João muttered.

“I feel fine,” Antonio stated firmly with a sniffle.

João narrowed his eyes. Antonio averted the gaze that threatened him to spill out every last bit of his most intimate secrets. _Such lies_ , his beloved’s sharp eyes gave him a once over. Antonio cast his own gaze down in relent, _I’m too stubborn_. He fiddled his shoe laces, tightening those cushioned, slip resistant, pleather shoes João gifted him last Christmas. The year when the month prior, he sustained a back injury from a nasty fall during work. João was always looking out for him. Not looking directly at him did not make him feel any less guilty.

“Oh so _you_ are fine,” João huffed, crossing his arms and standing a little straighter. “You’re fine while I—I had nights dealing with your coughing and sniffling and adjusting the pillows and tossing and turning and going to the bathroom. The sickness came back, and it came back wor—“

“I am better now,” Antonio said as he sat up. The position he was in, sitting down on the edge of the bed hovering over his shoes, made it hard to breathe. “It was just a little cold. Nothing serious.”

“Hm,” João did not agree or disagree, he just looked at his boyfriend with an accusing air. “And you expect Francis to let you work in this state?”

Antonio sighed, running his fingers through his curls. “I told you, I’m getting better,” he scrunched his nose and shook his head quickly. “I mean, better. I-I’ve gotten better, I am better, argh.”

He stood up, as if that was his final word. The uniform of a line cook, crinkled a little near the hems moved under a light open jacket. Mostly clean and pressed, he was ready to go. _If only that once sun-kissed face looked any less pale_. João furrowed his brow, his lips twitched downwards briefly, the first sign of defeat. Antonio thought that he might begin to block the doorway as a last resort, but he knew João was a little too proud for those sorts of things.

“One small cough, one sniffle,” he warned, though his eyes showed the first subtle hint of worry. “And it’s the couch for you.”

There, that was the real João, his João. Antonio walked up to him with a smile, his hand moving up to playfully tug on the loose strand of hair. He loved seeing the bit of blush that always appeared whenever he teased him, especially when he caught him in a mood such as this. His fingers went under his chin and he supposed João humored him, lifting his chin upwards slightly as he did. They shared a small kiss. “Te amo,” he muttered.

“Yea, I know.”

* * *

Antonio sniffled. He blamed his discomfort on the surgical mask Francis made him wear. When his boss told him to wear it, Antonio argued that it would get in the way of his cooking and it would unsettle his guests spectating his open-concept of a kitchen. Francis affirmed he was going to work in the back with the busboys that day.

Antonio dove his arms deep into the dirty waters of nostalgia. It hurt his pride, but looking at it positively, it was another humbling reminder of the place where he started.  After all, it was by sheer luck he was recognized for his talents and was given charge over the sauces, giving that happy flavorful burst to Francis’ famous fusion cuisine. He furrowed his strong brow as he gave the freshly washed dishes a last rinse. Francis that perfectionist, everything had to be according to his high standards and more.

He supposed his job that day wouldn’t be so bad, had it not been for the fact that his old pals of then coworkers were replaced by younger adults that preferred to ignore him and made him feel all the more out of place.

At the end of each round of dishes and cups, Antonio went to the trashcan to lift his mask and spit out phlegm.

“Really sorry I had to send you to the back today,” his boss cooed after his shift.

Antonio closed his eyes and rolled his shoulders, feeling extra strain. He blamed it on the unexpected heavy work and lack of proper social interaction.

“But I simply couldn’t afford you passing on your germs to my guests,” Francis continued. “Feel free to call me tonight if you don’t feel well! I rather you miss work and take time for yourself you know!”

Antonio coughed into his jacket sleeve, plopping himself on the seat in the bus ride home. His head pressed heavily on the cool, scratched glass. Everything felt awful. The streets of Madrid went by him in a blur of glimmering lights of the never-ending nightlife. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He was sure he was getting better this morning. Damn that Francis. Some ibuprofen and antihistamine, the really good knock-out kind, was warranted. He deserved a good night’s sleep. He and João.

* * *

Antonio was greeted by the mewls of their two cats, sniffing the air about him curiously. One was his and the other João insisted they’d keep after they moved in together. Antonio chuckled as he reminisced a worry, that they’d only hiss and scratch each other in bouts of jealousy. They proved him wrong. They were inseparable, often being found sunbathing together on the balcony or washing each other’s faces with gentle licks. “The cats are gayer than we are,” João teased at one point.

Antonio chuckled again as he took a cold water-bottle from the fridge, the cats hopping onto the counter in a quest for humanly affection. Antonio downed half of it with the store-brand ibuprofen retrieved from the bathroom in one sitting, his face grimacing with regret as the chilled liquid went down his throat in the most unpleasant way. He coughed, closing the lid tightly, as João urges him to do, and set the bottle to the side to welcome the cats.

He smiled and gave each one equal amounts of scritches, his stress beginning to melt away with the purrs. He glanced at the microwave clock. João’s shift was almost over. He’d come home a bit cranky either because he was hungry or he had to deal with an insufferable tourist that evening or both. Nothing a quick snack cannot deter. Antonio looked back down at the spoilt felines, João’s preferred cat slipping down gracefully as he deemed himself doted enough. Antonio chuckled as he kept petting his cat. He should cook for João, as an apology and peace offering for the previous nights.

João’s cat impatiently called for his mate from the floor to which Antonio’s cat immediately responded and forgot all about Antonio to hop down to join him. Antonio shook his head fondly as his cat greeted the other with tender face licks. He turned around to scour through their cabinets. Any other night, at this hour, Antonio would be too tired to cook dinner but since he wasn’t able to cook all damn day, this was going to be an especially nice treat.

He set the choice vegetables and microwaved thawed beef on a wooden chopping board. The water simmered delicately in the pressure cooker. Antonio sighed heavily, turning around and coughing onto his sleeve when needed. There was a wheeze to his breaths which was new and unwelcomed. Antonio shook his head, occupying his mind with the repetitive sounds of his knife softly hitting the board instead. The small open kitchen was a tiny ball of light which barely penetrated the darkness of the surrounding apartment. It was nearing 11pm. Antonio sighed, his aching shoulders and arms working create a dish for his beloved.

Good thing the ibuprofen worked like a charm.

* * *

João came home to a warm welcoming scent wafting through the apartment. He kicked off his shoes in the corner before the cats mewled at him in greeting. João’s tired expression turned to one of relief as he kneeled down to dote on the cats.

“Antoninho I’m home,” João called out as he nuzzled the purring spoilt cats. He squeezed their paws and teased their tails, noting faintly that his boyfriend had not returned the call.

“Antonio?” he called out again, letting the cats pad off before standing up and walking into the open area of living room where kitchen, dining room joined. Their humble apartment was adequately filled in with decent furniture that made the place feel homey and cool. It was relatively tidy what with the blankets strewn on the couch and the few cat toys littered on the tiled floor. The place was curiously absent of picture frames and extra décor, unless one counted the small pile of cardboard boxes they had in a corner that was supposed to be thrown out last month. He placed his phone, keys, crumpled old receipts and wallet on the tiny breakfast bar counter as the cats went to mind their own.

“Antonio?” João frowned after he noted the pressure pot open with simmering food inside but with no cook attending it. He approached the stove to turn off the gas in case it was done before heading to the small hallway that led to their bedroom. Everything is as it was left in the morning, the queen bed half-made, the open walk-in closet as cluttered as ever, but no sign of Antonio.

That is until he felt strong hands grasp his waist and pull him back against a warm chest. An embarrassing, startled yelp escaped him.

João scrunched his nose and turned around to lightly hit that warm stupid chest. “Don’t fucking scare me like that!” he scolded as Antonio snickered. “Did you even…did you even flush the damn toilet?”

“Ah, no,” Antonio looked back at the bathroom where he came from, the door open wide. He looked back at João with a cheeky smile. “If I flushed, I would have given away my position.”

“And you consider yourself so clever for thinking ahead, hm?” João muttered, not exactly prying himself away from him either. Antonio nuzzled him, greeting his beloved with a firm kiss. It was returned just as sweetly but with an added swat to the chest. “Go flush the toilet,” João huffed. “Wash your hands and meet me in the kitchen. I want to you to serve what you have cooked for me.”

* * *

João hummed at the pleasant feel of warm hearty broth going down his throat. His once tired expression turning brighter. The cats had cooled broth poured into their own bowls with added pieces of beef. They expressed their contentment with the occasional garbled mewl that never failed to make João chuckle.

Antonio pushed around his vegetables, sipping the broth half-heartedly.

João looked up towards Antonio, who was sitting at his side at the end of the table, his brow furrowing a little. He reached for a napkin that was from a pile between himself and Antonio. He dabbed his lips and decided to take a break from his gusto. “What were you doing in the bathroom anyway?” his smile fell a little. “Were you throwing up?”

Antonio blinked and shook his head. “No. No,” he shook his head softly, returning his attentions to his bowl. “I really was just pissing.” He chuckled softly and took a small sip.

João felt his chest sink a little. He had every reason to start ranting about his own day. In fact, Antonio was always an avid listener to his stories. Intently listening to every word about the people he met, the tips from Americans he received, the drama with the waitress and the chef. He could tell a rather funny account about how an older man who was openly flirting with him while he tended the bar and offered his services as a “sugar daddy”, but there was a reason why Antonio had not yet asked him, “How was your day amor?” in that carefree, happy grin of his.

So instead, João asked him. “How was your day?” he smirked softly.

That made a smile appear on Antonio’s face and for a brief moment João was mentally patting himself on the back for such a good save, but then Antonio answered as he continued to stir the broth, “You were right, Francis did not let me cook today.”

João pursed his lips. He knew Antonio was rather sensitive to these sorts of things, especially when he worried each day about how his job was not a secure job, that one day he could disastrously mess up a dish in Francis’ magnificent restaurant of rising fame and that was it. He was out. João tried to pry Antonio from his thoughts by placing a hand on his wrist. “What did you do instead?” João offered him a smile. “Tend the bar? Or with looks and charms like yours, I think you make a good host.”

“He made me wash the dishes,” Antonio answered flatly.

Oh, so his pride was wounded. João bit his lip briefly. His fingers curled around his wrist instead, moving towards the warmth of his boyfriend’s palm. “That’s not so bad, its not like you’ve never done it before,” he smirked, intertwining their fingers. “C’mon Toninho, at least you got paid for today. Better yet, it kept this handsome face safe from strangers who would otherwise try to flirt or charm you away from me.”

João grinned. Antonio sighed heavily, which only caused him to cough. A wheezing sort of cough that made him rub his chest with a wince afterwards. João pulled away slightly in concern, looking at him with a small frown. “You need rest,” he stated firmly.

“I’m fine,” Antonio rumbled, coughing softly.

“You _need_ rest,” João repeated, setting both their bowls aside and standing up to pull him up by his arm. “But first, a hot shower and—”

-“I’m telling you—”

“…and then you’ll go get some rest.”

“ _Jo_ _ão_ …”

“ _Antoninho_?” João smirked, his nose scrunching slightly upwards in that manner Antonio found adorable and completely frustrating.

Antonio furrowed his brow and pursed his lips to keep himself from smiling, sniffling in defeat.

* * *

“We should get a humidifier,” Antonio commented with a small, suppressed cough. He began to slip out of his undershirt as he entered the bathroom. It was a small space, much like how the rest of the apartment was. At least it was the only room completely devoid of cat fur.

“Ah, you rather not take a hot shower with me?” João grinned, following him and closing the door behind him.

Antonio threw the shirt into the hamper, smiling at him in a surprised but warm welcome. João began unbuttoning his slacks with a smirk.

“No,” Antonio paused and grinned, staring at João as he slipped out of his boxers. “Perhaps…yeah they’re too expensive anyway.”

They freed themselves from the stresses of daily work. The vents were closed and the shower was running hotly until steam was visible and sinuously spread around the room.

Antonio carefully began to cool the water until it was safe to go inside.

The shower was a bit of a tight fit as it was separate from the tub for some strange reason. It was not the ideal space for anything else except for a close intimate shower on those special relaxing evenings. Antonio had to be careful, lest the showerhead would hit the back of his head. Their toes grazed each other’s foots if they shifted too quickly and their heads knocked on the cold tiled walls if a kiss lasted too long.

But they were together, able to touch each other, feel the rumble on each other’s chests from a chuckle as they embraced. This closeness was what mattered.

Antonio inhaled deeply, the steam helping him to deal with the pressure in his chest. He breathed easily, rubbing João’s lower back in gratitude. It would have been awful to face this discomfort alone.

After a proper wash and a few quite literal steamy kisses, they dried off and dressed in light clothes before settling down on their bed, laying down comfortably in their messy nest of pillows and rumpled sheets. Their heads snugly tied in towel turbans. Yet as soon as Antonio was wrapping his arm restfully around João’s waist, João sat up, unwrapped Antonio’s towel and rubbed it on his head to make sure every last curl was dry.

“A-amor that’s…that’s not really necessary,” he chuckled under the damp towel. He loved being doted on as much as João did, but it often made him feel like a little kid.

João tsked and continued to rub the fluffy towel on his head. “And risk another night of coughing and moving? I don’t think so asshole,” he muttered.

Antonio hummed, wondering whether or not he should continue to interrupt João’s bedside care. He coughed, but at least it sounded less wheezy. João’s rubbing slowly came to a halt.

“How d’you feel?” João asked, his hands moving to hold Antonio’s jaw. His thumbs roamed passed the light stubble and felt around his cheekbones.

“Much better,” Antonio smiled, towel draped over his head and his curly bangs covering his eyes.  “Thanks to your magical hands and skill in hair drying.” He cleared his throat and grinned cheekily at him.

João gave him a harsher than necessary rub right on top of his head, leaving Antonio to flinch helplessly under João’s attack. He caught his wrists in retaliation, pulling him in for a quick kiss on the nose. João hummed.

“We still have a few more things to do before we call it a night,” João muttered, pulling away to hop out of bed.

“Oh yeah?” Antonio questioned, pulling the towel off his head and hanging it on the bedpost. He watched João disappear into the hallway. Antonio rose a brow, sniffling as he waited patiently for João to come back.

He wasn’t gone for long. João padded back into the room, crawling onto the bed until he was pressed snug by Antonio’s side. He handed him his phone. “You are going to call Francis,” João said, slipping the phone with a battered case into Antonio’s hand. “And you are going to tell him—“

“Oh no, no,” Antonio grumbled, shifting slightly in place. “I am not doing—“

João woke up the phone, revealing a lockscreen with a background photo of them happily sunbathing in Marbella. “You are going to call Francis—“

“I told you, _ya_!” Antonio retorted irritably, sending himself in a bout of coughs. He closed his eyes, more injured in his pride than his chest. He cleared his throat. A heavy silence loomed over him.

“I don’t get it,” João huffed, sitting up in frustration. “You are obviously sick, why can’t—why can’t you just accept that?”

“Because I am telling you, I’m fine,” Antonio barely whispered out without a wheeze.

“You stubborn, childish ass!” João exclaimed. “No you are not! Just admit it! What are you so afraid of?”

“I am not afraid,” Antonio muttered.

“Then call Francis,” João said.

Antonio looked at the phone, which still displayed their favorite memory together. Matching bright smiles, a beautiful beach behind them, a carefree pose that had them cheek to cheek. They were so in love. Antonio looked at João, his strong brow furrowed with no sign of backing down.

“You don’t understand, I might get fired,” Antonio added weakly.

João pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself to suppress a groan. “Antonio, we’ve been through this…”

“You know how I got the job?!” Antonio barked, his patience wearing thin from the frustration and illness.

João bit the inside of his cheek. It was best to let Antonio rant this out, no matter how ideal it was to slap him and tell him to get over it outright. “It was an open position,” he muttered.

Antonio coughed. “Because the man before me was fired on the spot for adding too much salt into the pork,” he explained. “Just last week, another was fired because the soufflé didn’t rise properly. Francis would rather waste time looking for perfection than let one mistake pass. He told me he would rather me miss work, but what if I am just going to be replaced next week?”

João sighed heavily. The unnecessary worry would kill his boyfriend before the actual illness does. “Simple,” he shrugged. “You look for another job.”

Antonio turned the other way, contemplating the wisdom behind João’s words, noting and being aware of every detail in the room. The smallness of the space, the clutter in the closet, the second-hand furniture, the cracks on the popcorn ceiling. João deserved better than this. He had lived a life better than this…that is, before he chose to leave it behind and live with him. “You know we can’t afford that,” he mumbled.

“Yes we can,” João stated matter-of-factly, making Antonio wince slightly. He shifted closer and slipped his fingers under his jaw gently and he supposed Antonio humored him, looking straight into his eyes as he did.

“But I cannot afford to lose you,” João muttered with a small smile. “Especially not to a curable illness or your stupid stubborn pride.”

Antonio averted his gaze down guiltily, his cheek soon resting heavily on João’s hand.

“Now are you going to call Francis?” João smiled softly. “For me?”

Antonio cleared his throat and took the phone gingerly. The bright lock-screen background showing their first vacation spent together looked even happier with the stained, job-worn case surrounding it. João pushed his way again to his side, soaking in his warmth. Antonio tapped away in his contacts, calling Francis soon after and putting him on speaker.

“Allo Tony?” a cheery voice was heard. “I was expecting your call!”

Antonio poorly suppressed a cough and sunk into the pillows. João pressed against him even more. “Y-yes Chef Bonnefoy,” he answered after clearing his throat. “I am not—“

“Poor Tony!” Francis continued. “You do sound very sick! Here, I will put in...my… notes here, that I won’t be expecting you tomorrow!”

“Ah no! Wait, yes! I mean yes, right,” Antonio fumbled. João tightened his hold around his lover’s waist and quickly kissed his collarbone. It gave Antonio much needed encouragement.

“Right! Get rest Tony and drink lots of water, ouais?” Francis said. “Au revoir!”

Antonio blinked, the wheeze returning a little to his cough. João looked at Antonio with a small smile. “See, that wasn’t so bad,” he pointed out, taking his phone and putting the phone to sleep.

“He seemed so ready to give me that day off,” Antonio muttered.

João hummed and tucked himself closer to Antonio’s side, his head resting on his shoulder. “Maybe he sees that you deserve it,” he said as he traced his fingers along his chest. “Maybe he doesn’t want you throwing up on his food. Either way, a day off is a day off. I say you take it.”

Antonio clasped his hand over João’s, taking it and pressing his lips on his knuckles in a loving kiss. “Maybe you should take the day off tomorrow too,” he rumbled. João rolled his eyes.

“You know we can’t afford that,” he smirked, making Antonio frown and gather little of his strength to catch João in an embrace, pushing himself up to hover over him. João yelped and cursed in protest but did little to escape his trapped position.

Antonio leaned down to kiss him, humming as he felt arms wrapping around his neck. He pulled away completely however, to turn away and cough. The wheezing had returned. João sat up in concern as Antonio grunted from the pain of coughing too much.

“Here, we still have one more thing to do,” João muttered, making Antonio lay back on the bed once more.

This time, João leaned over Antonio’s side, reaching for the nightstand and hastily pulling out the drawer. Some old crumpled bills, spare batteries, a flashlight pen, half-empty bottle of lube and wrapped hard-candy spilled to the front making João scavenge through the clutter to look for a jar of chest rub. “I could’ve sworn you dumped it here, you dump all your crap in here,” he muttered, recalling how Antonio acquired some relief the other night by adding the strong rub directly under his nose. João placed all his weight on his beloved’s stomach, making him grunt. Antonio gave him a light swat over his buttocks before resting it there in silent appreciation.

João kept at his search, sticking his tongue a little before pulling out the item in need. He sighed in relief, closing the drawer and moving to straddle Antonio’s thighs. “Seriously, you need to organize your shit Antonio,” he muttered, twisting the cap open and letting the strong menthol and camphor scent engulf the room.

Antonio smirked, his hands resting behind his head and admiring the beauty from below. “Oh, so if I reach into your drawers, everything is perfectly organized, sorted and labeled.”

“Something like that,” João muttered, dipping his fingers into the rub.

“Empty drawers do not count,” Antonio rose a brow, poorly hiding a smirk. “And you’re not getting away with dumping your stuff on the kitchen counters, leaving it for me to pick it up after you.”

“Just shut up and take off your shirt,” João frowned, a glob of rub sitting on his fingers.

Antonio smirked, reaching for the hem and pulling the shirt up and above him. He sighed and shivered lightly from exposure. João smiled softly, appreciating the view. It was all his to touch, him alone. Antonio coughed and let the moment pass in tender silence, until it was interrupted by the coldness of the rub being smoothed over his sternum. Antonio hissed while João began working his right hand over the tense areas of his breasts. João rather liked the warm firmness there but he knew this was also from stress, working long hours prepping meals for ungrateful strangers. He had not had the time to exercise like he used to, but João never heard him complain.

_“I need to do this for you,” Antonio insisted. “For you and me. This apartment.” He gestured happily at his, now officially theirs, apartment, newly painted, thoroughly clean with the last of Jo_ _ão’s moving boxes stacked against the wall. “This is just a stepping stone into something better. Into something you deserve.”_

_Jo_ _ão smiled softly at his enthusiasm, but his heart began to sink._

_“You know this doesn’t really…matter, I mean, I admire how you are willing to work longer hours to get what you want,” Jo_ _ão pointed out. “But you can’t overwork yourself either, we’ll see each other less and you will get tired and stressed out—“_

_Antonio laughed heartily, that carefree ass. “Amor, its okay, its two weeks in and_ I feel fine _.”_

Antonio had his eyes closed by then, the soothing warmth of his lover’s hands working around his chest and the intense yet relieving smell of the rub lulling him to a peaceful doze. His body fell limp under João’s touch.

João noted the dark circles under his eyes and the paleness of Antonio’s cheeks.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now,” João weakly smirked. “You’ll have to return the favor.”

“Hm? Oh yeah,” Antonio mumbled, fluttering his eyes open. “Sorry.”

“I was just kidding,” João chuckled, rubbing over his shoulders and pressing his palms around the base of his neck. He furrowed his brown in concern. “You’re so tense.”

“M’relaxing now,” Antonio muttered.

João sighed, suppressing a yawn. He was tired, but Antonio was probably even more tired. He had to show that he cared, that he loved _Antonio_ and not the prospect of a “better” life he was trying his damn hardest to give him. João did have it better back then, but it was never a _good_ life. He could live that good life with Antonio, he just couldn’t dampen his spirits either.

João began to unstraddle him. “Turn around,” he said, getting more of the rub.

Antonio huffed defiantly, which only caused him to cough even more. He obliged, sinking the side of his head onto the heap of pillows they managed to collect over the months. He submitted to him, in all his strong, tense, freckled and beauty-marked glory.

Without another word, João straddled his thighs and reintroduced the cold rub on to his warm back. Antonio winced but did not complain either, especially when his strong hands pressed and rubbed over the knots on his back. He grunted and fluttered his eyes shut after the first knot was undone. Antonio sighed contentedly.

A few quiet moments passed by before Antonio spoke up. “How was your day amor?” he muttered.

João paused. He responded with a soft chuckle. “Crazy,” he smirked. “As always.”

“Did the waitress break up with the chef’s sister?” Antonio smiled softly, humming when João’s palms slid up his back in slow manner.

“They got back together again,” João answered, his palms now moving down in pressured, sinuous pattern, making sure all the small knots on his upper back were undone. “The chef is still convinced the waitress is after what little money he and his sister has.” He scoffed. “He’s sucha dumbass, he lives for the drama and that drama always has to be about him.”

He could see Antonio’s smile, that soft smile coupled with a brief glance that told him “You’re content, and I’m satisfied.” João decided to continue.

“You were about to lose me again,” João smirked as he worked his fingers along the shoulder blades.

“Ah not again,” Antonio grunted, feeling him undo a knot.

“To a man twice your age probably, who knows, perhaps he was older,” he grinned, recalling the day’s odd events and happy to have finally told Antonio. Of course, he had already retold the story with the same amusement to his co-workers, but he loved to tease Antonio as much as Antonio seemed to love to listen. “But he was quite handsome for his old age, and he knew it too,” he continued in that low soft voice of his. Antonio was sure he could be lulled with just him talking but something kept his ears and mind awake. “Walked right up to the bar and ordered a drink. We began talking, mmm, about nonsense things like the weather. He was visiting from another region so we talked about the touristy areas around us. Charming, sweet guy, I’ll admit, but he was lingering for quite some time, talking about his youth and past misadventures, his successful investments, and his nice house.”

Antonio narrowed his eyes, but couldn’t bring himself to speak up. João had a long day too, he simply needed to get the story off his chest and besides, he was tired.

“We were alone practically, and three drinks in I knew he was waiting for something,” he continued, spreading the last of the rub around the base of his neck. He chuckled. “I was thinking, ‘C’mon old man, spit it out already, we both know what you want’. And so he did, but I thought he was going to ask me out on a date but no. He was offering me 1000 euros a week to stay with him. What do you call those? Sugar-daddies? 1000 euros can you believe that?”

Antonio did, he believed it wholeheartedly. He closed his eyes and tried his hardest to tune him out. He answered with only a small hum. João seemed to perk up with that mere response.

“This man must be shitting money,” João added amusedly, rocking on Antonio’s thighs as his fingers stretched and reached his collarbones. “Well, he did work in real estate. Smart guy, bought a lot of properties.”

Antonio closed his eyes, his mind finally drifting off.

“Perhaps when and if he comes back again, and I mean if, because I did leave him pretty disappointed, I will ask him about the whole real estate business,” João muttered thoughtfully. “It would be good for us no? We’ll make good money with that. Then we can finally buy the house we saw when we vacationed in Marbella, the one with 3 bedrooms, a nice garden and a wide, open kitchen? Wouldn’t that be great?—Antonio?”

Antonio did not immediately respond. When he did, he looked at João with red-stained eyes and a lazy smirk. “What was that amor?” he mumbled.

João shook his head softly. “Nothing,” he responded, lightly patting his shoulder and unstraddling him again. “Come on, you need to put your shirt back on.”

Antonio sighed heavily as he did, not taking notice that his shirt was inside out. The reintroduction of warmth combined with the natural coolness of the rub made a rather pleasant contrast. He sighed, the scent itself was soothing, he was drifting back to sleep by the time João tucked a blanket under his chin.

“Now no coughing alright?” João smirked, taking his place beside him and resting his head on his hand. He patted the duvet over him for extra measure. “Remember what we promised? One cough, one sniffle and you’re going to the couch.”

Antonio hummed and nodded his head, smiling dazedly and rubbing his slightly damp curls onto the pillows. A warm smile spread João’s lips before he carefully leaned over his beloved and turned off the lamp.

“Good night Toninho,” João sighed, slipping under the blankets and duvet himself with a small shiver. He did not realize how tired he was until his head touched the pillows. He yawned and snuggled close to Antonio, his eyes drooping almost immediately. Soon, his world turned black.

* * *

_Coff! Coff!_

João snapped his eyes open.

_Coff! Coff! Coff!_

He rubbed his eyes tiredly, poorly suppressing a groan. He looked to the side, where Antonio’s back was turned against him. From the corner of his eye, he noted how Antonio tried to muffle the coughs, the stubborn man’s shoulders trembling slightly in that attempt.

_Coff! COFF!_

It was going to be another sleepless night for both if Antonio keeps this up.

João turned to his side, hand reaching out to nudge Antonio on his shoulder. “Antonio,” João grumbled, his eyes squinting from drowsiness and annoyance. “Antonio, are you alright? Do you need to see the doctor?”

Antonio shook his head, turning onto his back, his exhales coming out in wheezy hisses. He coughed again, sitting up as he did, only to reach out for a used piece of tissue paper on the night stand to spit on. Perhaps it was because they were both tired, or it was because it was late and everything sounded louder, harsher at night, perhaps it was both, but Antonio’s coughing was certainly inducing a sharp pang of worry in João’s chest. Antonio laid back onto the pillows with a worn-out sigh as João’s brow twisted tiredly with concern.

“Antonio,” João closed his eyes. “This…this does not sound right to me at all.”

“I don’t think I have enough energy to wait hours at the heath center only so they can prescribe me cough syrup,” Antonio grumbled.

João shook his head. It was too late, or rather too early for him to deal with this. “ _Nonono_ ,” he frowned, exasperated. “What if this is something else?”

He had colds and fought influenza before, but none that sounded so bad like this. It was an unsettling type of cough, one that sounded painful when it happened. Something that was clearly draining Antonio of his energy and reason. João wasn’t an expert, he didn’t have to worry about such things before, and when it did come to matters of his own health, he always had someone to look after him, always.

This was different. This is another human being he _wanted_ to look out for. It was frustrating how something so common, so simple, so second-nature to some, felt very new to him still. He had to trust his instincts, and to him, the coughing sounded wrong. Damn the wait times. Damn Antonio’s definition of “fine”.

João pushed the covers to the side, making Antonio frown in turn. Without another word, João padded off to the bathroom. Antonio took the opportunity to squeeze in a few good coughs, if coughs that racked his entire body can ever be considered “good”.

João squinted, the bright lights of the bathroom buzzing to life as he quickly rummaged through the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. Antihistamine, the green plastic bottle read, with added alcohol. With eyes still narrowed from the intensity of the lights, João hummed softly in approval before shuffling towards the kitchen. Antonio’s coughing was heard faintly from the bedroom as he pulled a drawer out for a tablespoon in semi-darkness.

João found the darkened figures of their cats curled together on the counter. He blinked and took a moment to look at how his preferred cat washed nearly every inch of Antonio’s cat’s face. Antonio’s cat purred lowly and lightly batted his mate’s ears, signaling him to stop. João’s cat gave an annoyed meow, but that did not stop them from curling back tightly together again to sleep.

João scoffed and shook his head lightly, pausing when realized he was going back to his bedroom to tend to his own “mate”.

Antonio began to poorly suppress his coughs once more when João reentered the room. He sat up slowly as João approached his side, flicking the lamp on before twisting the plastic cap open.

“I…I can take it myself,” Antonio tried to reassure when João measured out the dose.

“Open,” João muttered, to which Antonio immediately obliged.

Antonio grimaced at the strong taste, scrunching his nose and mouth. He took the dose down with a loud grunt while João set the medicine down and tossed the spoon onto the wooden unorganized nightstand with a light clank.

“Turn off the light,” João groaned, shuffling around the bed to plop himself back onto his side of their nest.

Antonio reached over to do as he was told, clearing his throat of excess mucus before settling back into the pillows again. He turned to his side, the warm, strangely pleasant burning sensation of the medicine spreading his chest. He observed soundlessly how João’s sigh briefly broke the stillness in the room, his gentle, tired, breaths evening out in slumber. Antonio reached over, placing a heavy hand on his cheek, finding its way to his jaw in the darkness. His thumb lovingly caressed under his eye, feeling his lover slowly relax under his touch. _Where will I be without you?_ he wanted to ask. _How can you put up with my nonsense?_

“Thank you,” Antonio muttered sincerely instead.

“ _Mm_? Mhm,” was his warm reply.

Antonio smiled, his hand coming to rest on João’s shoulder and soon, around his back as he curled up rather protectively around him. He felt his chest warm up again when he felt a familiar soft movement of João nuzzling his chest. He inhaled deeply.

He felt fine.

* * *

“Toninho.”

He could barely flutter his eyes open, what with the light of the new day spilling in from the windows, the dulling feel of the medicine wearing off from his system, and João nudging him awake. He soon felt a light ruffle on his curls. What time was it exactly?

“Antonio, _wake up_ ,” João frowned.

Antonio groaned, bringing a hand up to rub his entire face. He coughed lightly, looking at João and noted him washed, dressed and hair brushed back in his typical ponytail. Where was he going? He couldn’t begin to fathom. He wasn’t even sure what he ate last night.

“Hngh, what time is it?” Antonio grumbled.

“8:30 and we need to go,” João responded, giving him one last pat on his chest before getting up to take one last look at their mirror. He huffed at his reflection, loosening his tie to do it over again.

“Go? Go where?” Antonio nearly whined. He began propping himself on his pillows, only to fluff them and reposition himself in a more comfy spot; his back against the sunlight. “S’too early.”

“Mm, Clinca San Juan,” João muttered through his tie, his fingers meticulously threading and holding down every strand. Antonio frowned. He turned around again to face him.

“João, I’m telling you I feel—”

“ _You are not fine_ ,” João drew his attention from the mirror to glare at him. If Antonio was any more awake, he could have easily noticed that he did not spend the night well. The tiredness under the eyes was a start.

“I _heard_ you asshole,” João continued. “Your chest? Made these, weird, hissy, noises while you slept. I _heard_ you. It bothered me so much that I had to _google_ it!”

And to further prove his point, João raised his phone towards him which brightly displayed a wiki page on common chest ailments. Antonio could not quite make out what it read, but he could read the expression on his beloved’s face. He was not happy.

“You have bronchitis,” João stated accusingly.

Antonio tsked loudly in annoyance. “ _Aaa_ ,” he mumbled, burying his face into the pillows. “It’s a good thing its not cancer.”

“Antonio, this is serious!” João retorted. “I’m trying to help you! Being a stubborn asshole won’t get you anywhere! Don’t you get it?” He pointed at the phone as if he was directly referencing a holy text. “It says, ‘if left untreated, the disease can lead to pneumonia which can be fatal’. Which means _death_.”

Antonio half-chuckled through his inner annoyance and frustration as he lifted his head up slightly to look at him. “João, I’ve had bronchitis before. Everybody has at one point in their lives. It’s really not that serious.”

João’s frown quivered, chewing on his inner cheeks to compose himself. He lowered the phone in silent, subtle defeat.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Stay in bed asshole. Recover on your own for all I care.” He gave one last glare at Antonio before storming out of the bedroom.

Antonio spared no moment’s hesitation to go after him. João had the bad habit of disappearing by going out and turning off his phone when he was really upset. To chase after him would only give João more reason to run off. Antonio hated the feeling of dread and anxiety from not knowing of his whereabouts. He just needed to catch him before he left their apartment.

“ _No, wait…amor_!”

João’s dark locks whipped around his face as he turned on his heel, his eyes widening slightly as he reached hastily towards his beloved.

It must have been the sudden movement he made, or the sudden excitement, or both, but whatever the reason, Antonio was triggered into a bout of coughs and hacks that was enough for Antonio to lean heavily on the side of the door frame. His shoulders shook, his knees bent under his own weight. The duvet a tangled mess on the carpeted bedroom floor from where Antonio tossed and tripped on.

João was by his side in a matter of seconds and Antonio was soon relishing in his comfort and warmth by leaning against him, sighing shakily and closing his eyes in regret. “Don’go,” he rasped out. “M’sorry. I just didn’t want you to go. I’m fine.”

João pulled away from him with a soft frown. “Antonio,” he began, shaking his head slowly. “You are not fine. You are sick. And you need help. I can’t understand why—”

Antonio’s chest heaved, his laboring breath was done through parted lips. They looked at each other’s eyes, both searching for reason out of this problem, a problem that could have been solved with one trip to the health clinic. But there was more behind their eyes. Something torn and regretful in Antonio’s deep green eyes and something hurt and sorrowful in João’s seawater greens. Antonio was the first to note that, so he was the first to relent.

“I can’t afford to be sick,” Antonio cast his eyes down in shame. “I was born with nothing, so I have to work extra hard to even offer the littlest bit of simple luxury, the luxuries you deserve. Look around amor. You don’t belong here and you cannot stand around and pretend that you do.”

João’s frown deepened, his nose scrunching in such a way Antonio had not seen him do. It was not pleasant sight. He wasn’t upset. He was angry.

“So that…that what it’s been all about?” João began, pulling away slowly from Antonio’s side. Antonio’s brow twisted with confusion. His insecurities met with a misunderstanding.

“That you had to work hard…so you could buy my love?”

Antonio’s eyes widened and looked up back at João. No, that was not what he meant!

“That I had to always be impressed to stay with you? As if I was some kind of shallow whore?”

“No!” Antonio rebutted, his chest racked with a few more coughs and growing frustration. He would not be misunderstood! “I-its nothing like that.”

Antonio looked so pitiful across from him, but his weak reasoning did not help João sympathize with that. What he dared assumed of him! It’s what everyone else saw, a brat son of a wealthy businessman who only thinks about himself and his possessions. Doesn’t matter how much he sacrificed, or humbled himself to, that was never going to change, he accepted his fate. But then to realize, out of all people, _his Antonio_ also thought the same of him. His hurt and annoyance only grew.

“Then why do you focus so much on giving me a ‘better life’ Antonio? Why?” João snapped, his back against the opposite side of the door frame. “Why do you think you have to always prove yourself to me?”

“Because that is what you deserve!” Antonio shouted, or what could be considered a shout, a declaration of the ever-present frustration and self-consciousness, coupled with wheezing, heaving breaths. He was going to choke on his own mucus if he continued. So he closed his eyes and counted. His breaths evening out eventually with a tired sigh. “You had this...amazing life before me,” Antonio continued. “You were the heir of a million-dollar company. You had everything, money, powerful friends and someone like you, who was so different from the rest—”

João’s tense shoulders relaxed. Suddenly, Antonio did not look so pitiful leaning heavily against the doorframe.

Antonio squeezed his eyes shut and relaxed them. “You could have ended up with another heir, a lawyer or hell even a duke, but no, you gave that all up for me. _Me_ outta all people. A small, insignificant busboy. You could have been vacationing in your villa in Napoli or attending a spa in Turkey or—or you could have started your real estate business with that old rich guy that very same day with nothing, absolutely nothing, holding you back…but no, you’re stuck waiting on shitty tables in a shitty restaurant in the shittiest part of Madrid _because of me_.”

Antonio let the back of his head hit the wooden doorframe with a small thump. The sound was the only disturbance in the silence between them. Not even a mewl escaped the cats. Antonio wanted to sleep and perhaps never wake up. He felt awful and João deserved none of this.

But then a warm hand met his cheek. Soft and careful, the thumb passed over his cheekbone, relaxing his entire being and making him feel safe. Curious how João had the ability to melt him with just a simple touch.

“Toninho you—” a voice so familiar, warm, low and melodious pierced the heavy silence. Antonio allowed himself to lean against the hand, an anchor to the present.

“You don’t owe me the world,” João stated softly. “I never asked for any of it. All I ever want or need or care to have is _you_.”

Antonio did not respond, keeping his cheek in the warmth of his beloved’s hand.

“Antonio?” João frowned softly. “Antonio.” He moved his jaw gently so that they could meet each other’s eyes once more. “Antonio, I love you.”

That earned him a smile. That old, cheerful Antonio shining through the defeated, angry, insecure one. His long lashes fluttered lightly and happily. “I love you too,” he responded.

João’s frown deepened, jerking his jaw a little more so that their eyes could fully meet. “No Antonio,” he said. “ _I love you_.”

Antonio finally looked at him, no more hurt in his eyes, just newfound confusion. His strong brow twisted slightly and his chest heaved once. “I…I love you too,” Antonio answered. “I love you more than anything else in this world. I—”

João rolled his eyes and sighed. “I _know_ that you love me Antonio, but do you know that I love you?”

His beloved did not know how to respond. His mouth opened for a response, but nothing came out. João clasped both hands on either side of his cheeks, drawing closer until he was pressed forehead to forehead, and able to see every handsome feature and flaw he adored. He was beautiful and perfect the way he was. “ _I love you, Antonio_.”

The corners of Antonio’s lips twitched upward, his gaze softening and his hands wrapping around his waist to keep them sealed close.

“Yea,” Antonio responded. “I know.”

João smiled wide, his hands moving towards the back of his neck as their lips met and joined. A kiss to discover and rediscover. They loved each other, and they both knew it.

* * *

Fortunately, at the hour in which they arrived, Clinca San Juan wasn’t as busy as expected. It was still quite a wait however, as the older folk and parents with much younger children were still getting sick and needing check-ups.

Antonio and João did not mind as much. They sat together on plastic chairs after they checked in, holding each other’s hands and intertwining their fingers like lovestruck teens. João fretted over the surgical mask Antonio was given while Antonio chuckled and planted masked “kisses” on his cheeks.

“I don’t like that, it looks like I’m the contagious one and you’re avoiding a horrible disease or something,” João muttered.

“But I thought I was already diseased,” Antonio pointed out teasingly while João rose a brow unamused. “Its just for the safety of others. Lotta old people and little kids here.”

He pulled on the mask straps playfully with a wink but paused when João wasn’t exactly smiling with him.

“You never really stepped into a public health clinic, have you?” Antonio said softly.

His boyfriend sighed. “We had a private doctor,” João answered. “I convalesced in my own room. I ah, never even knew what was wrong with me half of the time. Our doctor always came to do a usual check up and tell me that I needed medicine, water and rest. That was all.” He smirked weakly at Antonio. “Maybe I am one of the lucky few that never gotten anything serious like bronchitis.”

Antonio chuckled softly, smoothing his thumb over João’s knuckles. “And who cared for you while you were sick?” he asked, genuinely curious on how João acquired such bedside care skills.

“The maids,” João murmured. “They’d do everything for me as you’d expect.” He closed his eyes and rested his head on his shoulder. “They’d wear those masks when I was sick. At first, I thought it was pretty entertaining, because I had to guess which maid was which by their hairstyle and eye color but then, after a while it just gets…lonely. The masks started to feel like…like a wall, like they were trying to keep me at arm’s length or something. Their massages, their fussing over medicine and blankets, the chest rub everything, felt more and more like they were just doing their job. My only company at home were not as close to me as I thought they were.” João shook his head. “But whatever. Poor little spoiled rich boy who only received the royal treatment since his birth, right? Right.”

Antonio furrowed his brow, looking at João sulking right on his shoulder. He tugged the mask under his chin and craned his neck down to plant a firm, tender kiss on João’s forehead.

João looked up in surprise to see Antonio smiling at him. He couldn’t help much but smile in return before shifting in place so that he could nuzzle and tuck his head under in Antonio’s jaw. He sighed contentedly, giving his hand a small squeeze.

Antonio pulled the mask back over his mouth and nose, finding João’s previous bedside care all the more endearing and all the more sweet.

* * *

To no one’s surprise, except that of Antonio, Antonio was diagnosed with acute bronchitis and was sent home with an advisement for rest, water, pain-relievers, more hot showers, cough syrup and to their surprise an inhaler.

“See?” João pointed out as they waited on the bus home, plastic bag full of what Antonio needed to recover. “What if we hadn’t gone to the doctor? What then? You would have wheezed yourself to death by the end of the week.”

Antonio tsked loudly, knowing very well João was right. The inhaler was to help him to get more mucus out, since he was wheezing. “Perhaps It means we’ll have a good night’s rest tonight, finally,” Antonio pointed out, winking and sticking his tongue out teasingly.

“Finally,” João agreed with a chuckle, drawing close to him. Antonio wrapped his arm around his waist in response. “Actually, I think I just might be getting too warm.” He placed his hands around his neck as Antonio looked on with a furrowed brow. “And my throat hurts and damn…I don’t think I would be able to work later today.”

It took Antonio a moment but he soon lit up and smiled brightly. “No you are looking very pale amor,” he said. “I think you need rest.”

“You think so?” João smirked.

“Yes,” Antonio nodded. “I would suggest a relaxing evening for a quicker recovery. A warm meal, blankets, cuddling on the couch—”

“Aaa then yes, I am very, very sick,” João chuckled as he leaned heavily on Antonio, making his beloved smile all the more brighter. “A warm, handsome, curly haired man by my side would make everything complete,” he added, drawing closer until he was able to give him a small kiss.

Antonio felt the warmth spread through his chest, knowing he loved and was loved.

And he felt fine.


End file.
